


a pocketful of rainbows

by NingenShikkaku



Category: Akame ga Kill!
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Ieyasu Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NingenShikkaku/pseuds/NingenShikkaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Capital, Ieyasu has two simple goals; to earn money for his village, and maybe look for his lost childhood friend. Joining Night Raid is a smart plan, but little does he know, said childhood friend is standing in the enemy side, as the Empire’s youngest, beloved General Tatsumi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a pocketful of rainbows

**Author's Note:**

> Retelling of Anime Canon, assuming that Ieyasu lives and joins the Night Raid, while Tatsumi was kidnapped by slave traders at young age and later become a General.
> 
> ...And because we all need well-written Akame ga Kill! fics.

**jump ahead to the moment of epiphany**

The Capital is ridiculously huge, Ieyasu thinks. It may take a while for him to find Sayo alone, and let’s not speak about finding Tatsumi. Not to mention that damn woman who has stolen all his money. Thanks to her, he can’t even find a proper place to stay. That’s why the offer from this Lady Aria is like a heavenly gift. Already knowing harshness of the Capital people, he can’t believe there are still people like Aria and her parents, and his own luck to be picked up by them.

“So Ieyasu, why did you come to the Capital?” a guard asks him.

“…I had a friend, once. He was captured by the slave traders a few years ago. I want to find him.”

The man’s expression becomes shuttered, and Ieyasu can feel his hope sinking.

It’s the other guard who breaks the news to him, voice pitying. “Ieyasu, if that person is captured, I doubt he’s even alive by now. You’ve seen for yourself, how harsh life is in the Capital. He may still be around, but don’t get your hopes too high, okay?”

Ieyasu dreams of snowy woods and small avalanche that night.

_“Go. Take Sayo back to the village and call some adults. I’ll distract them.”_

_“But Tatsumi—”_

_“Go! I’ll be fine, trust me. Just go quickly!”_

“…You damn liar.”

Tatsumi’s last smile fading from his mind, Ieyasu bolts up when the killing intent hits. It sure is strong, and merciless enough to make him shiver. _Night Raid,_ he thinks, watching shadowy figures hovering some feet above ground, and goes for his blade. He needs to get Aria safe, to repay her kindness.

What he finds is true disillusionment.

Sayo is dead. Tortured and murdered by monsters wearing a human skin.

Aria is nothing but a cooling corpse in his feet and there are Night Raid members nearby and _Sayo is dead_. And Tatsumi—

_…Tatsumi._

Ieyasu wants to scream.

“I’ll join you guys,” he says instead. “I’ll kill every single one of them. It’s not justice, but I’ll do what I feel is right.”

Suffice to say, the Boss is impressed.

“Welcome to the life of carnage, Ieyasu.”

 

☽

 

Night Raid is rather a nice place to be, for a den of assassins. Ieyasu can’t help but find it amusing that humanity exists in the strangest of places. But he isn’t too surprised, seeing that their world has long gone too distorted. That is why he’s doing this job, cutting down those distortions to make a better, gentler world.

And if he somehow, somehow could find Tatsumi along the way, he isn’t going to complain.

“Lost in thought?”

Ieyasu almost jumps out of his skin when Najenda appears at his elbow, cigarette and all. He blows a relived sigh. “…Don’t scare me, Boss.”

Najenda laughs, unrepentant. “You seem deep in melancholy. Too many heavy thoughts?”

“Nothing, just,” He sighs again. Who is he kidding? “…I’m just thinking about my friend.”

“Not that girl?”

“No, a childhood friend,” he smiles slightly. “He went missing about eleven years back. Captured by slave traders. He stayed behind to let us escape.”

Najenda’s visible eye twitches lightly. “…I see.”

“We were going to look for him,” he starts, a rueful smile curving his lips. “Sayo and I. We were going to find him. This is the Capital, and hey, if we work for the Empire, we might find him somewhere. But we didn’t know that it is so bad in the Capital, and now Sayo is dead. What should I do, then? I’m all alone… Where should I go, to meet them again?”

Najenda blows smoke to the air, not moving, but just _there_. Ieyasu appreciates it more than empty words of comfort.

“You know,” she says after he’s calmed down. “We are the Night Raid. We own backdoor route most wouldn’t dream of. Finding a guy may be tricky, but isn’t impossible.”

He stares at her, hope blossoming back in his chest. “…Really? We can find him?”

“Yeah,” the Boss nods with a grin. “Tell me what he looks like.”

The words tumble out in a rush. “He’s about my age, has brown hair and green eyes. He has a baby face, kind of cute and innocent. His name is Tatsumi.”

“What.” The cigarette actually falls from Najenda’s lips. “Tatsumi is a guy your age with cute baby face, brown hair and green eyes. Am I getting this right?”

“Yes…?” He confirms, slightly confused by Najenda’s obvious surprise. “…What, do you know him?”

Najenda picks up her fallen tobacco stick and goes to her feet. “Go spy on the returning General with Lubba tomorrow. He is the youngest general in history, and is childhood friends with the Emperor.”

Frowning, he nods anyway. “…Okay?”

Najenda halts her steps, but doesn’t look back. “I hope for your sake, this will never end in a tragedy, Ieyasu.”

The meaning of Najenda’s words doesn’t truly sink in until Ieyasu is standing in the excited crowds, watching the youngest General’s return from his campaign outside the Capital. From the beginning, he’s heard that this guy has the best reputation under his belt; a childhood friend of the Emperor, General Budou’s beloved star pupil, promoted to a General at age thirteen, the man who can openly insult the Prime Minister and live to tell the tale. His prowess in battle is also infamous, going as far as placing him toe-to-toe with General Esdeath, and it is rumored that he has _two_ Imperial Arms. Not to mention his general dislike of torture and mass-slaughter. He has the best reputation among Generals, and people fear and respect him the equal measure.

But nobody has ever said that the young General is _Tatsumi_.

Ieyasu has to pull his jaw from the floor.

It really _is_ Tatsumi, mere few feet away riding on his high horse (pun intended), receiving praises and cheers from the crowds and being completely at ease. Though slightly hampered by tiredness, how he carries himself clearly speaks of complete assurance of his powers, dangerous and tempered and ready. Tatsumi has two men on his sides, one is a hulking guy with dark eyes and dark hair, and a dangerous-looking mace, the other is a lean man with pale eyes and pale hair, and a smile that says everything and nothing at once. There are rumors of them too, how one is actually the General’s Imperial Arm, and one is the General’s ex-tutor but dangerous enough to be chosen as his aide.

“Oi, Ieyasu, that your friend?” Lubbock asks, grip nearly painful on Ieyasu’s shoulder.

“…Yeah,” Ieyasu responds, feeling more than a little empty in the inside. “It’s our Tatsumi.”

Ieyasu’s stops breathing when Tatsumi’s eyes land on his own, for a few seconds that feels like a trance. Those green eyes stay until long after him and Lubbock return to the base.

Tatsumi’s gaze is ice-cold.

 

☽

 

“…At least he’s well, and I know where he is,” Ieyasu consoles himself, but he knows he isn’t fooling anybody. Already he gets those soft-sad look from Bulat and Sheele, blatant pitying from Mine and Lubbock. Leone often tries to get his mind off of darker moods by sparring. Only Najenda and Akame remains their unaffected self.

All of them have their own version of Tatsumi’s personality.

Lubbock is the first to approach him. “A heartless bastard, that guy is. Once I saw him decapitating a girl without batting an eye. But what’s crazier is that the girl’s dad actually _thanked_ him for killing his daughter. You shouldn’t let you guard down around him, that’s for sure.”

Sheele’s version is a complete opposite. “General Tatsumi is actually kind and gentle. He often takes walks around the Capital’s lower district, buying things from the poorest sellers and actually paying attention to our plight. He even helped me killing a scum once.”

Mine’s version is as unflattering as Lubbock’s. “He’s another of those guys who blindly follows orders no matter what. He doesn’t have heart, or if he does, it’s too frozen.”

Leone is unsure, but she shows actual fear of Tatsumi’s fighting capability. “I don’t know what that guy’s thinking. Sometimes he’s generous, but sometimes he’s a ruthless murderer. I heard that he’s also planning a coup, but can’t risk his own position for that. I really didn’t want to get into his bad side, though. He’s so frigging _strong_.”

“Tatsumi is a strange mix of contradiction,” Najenda says with a long drag of her cigarette. “He is like a mirror, can appear kind or ruthless depending on one’s view. The world has shaped him into that, the poor boy.”

Akame reveals a shocking truth of herself. “My sister is in the Army. She’s part of an assassination squad, much like us. I hope you and Tatsumi never have to kill each other, though. Tatsumi is already broken enough.”

Bulat’s story provides enough explanation, because the man has actually spoken with Tatsumi. “The scariest part about Tatsumi is that he cares for nothing aside from his two aides. He is a pragmatist, indifferent to the extreme. Even the strongest affection rouses nothing from him. He can insult the Prime Minister and get away with it because he truly doesn’t care if he live or die. He can get away with so many things because the Emperor is too attached to him, actually. If he wishes so, he can change this country in a heartbeat, but he doesn’t because he feels it as a hassle. That’s also why he doesn’t do torture; too much hassle. But if something piques his interest, he will give attention. People, especially those with strong feelings, are interesting for him, so he likes to listen about their plight, and gives things they need, so he appears kind and generous to citizens. His dislike for mass-slaughter is the same; killing interesting things is a waste, so he would say.”

Ieyasu listens, and grieves. Tatsumi’s personality has his failure written all over it. If he was stronger, he could save Tatsumi without having to call the adults, this wouldn’t have happened. Tatsumi might also join Night Raid with him, Sayo might be alive. Instead Sayo is six feet under and Tatsumi a barely recognized shell of his previously gentle self.

He does cry, then. First it is a sob tearing his throat, then his jaw clenching, then hot tears streaming steadily down his cheeks.

 _Tatsumi,_ his mind cries, _Tatsumi, I’m so sorry._

Ieyasu doesn’t try to twist away from Bulat’s arms this time.

 

 

**small room closed in glass**

If he’s being really honest, Tatsumi doesn’t remember much about his life before Budou’s carriage. All he knows is that he hasn’t mysteriously spawned from a tree, but he has a trouble remembering what his mother looks like. He remembers being rescued—bought—from a bunch of awful men by Budou. When he’s been deemed decent, he is left to fend for himself in a room bigger than anything he’s ever seen, with various toys littering every available surface. He doesn’t stay alone for long. Soon another boy, clearly younger than himself, saunters in without preamble.

“Oh!” the boy exclaims, looking excited. “You’re the big brother I requested from Budou, right?”

He tilts his head to a side, uncomprehending. “…I’m your big brother?”

“Well, you have green eyes, I have green eyes! We can be brothers!” the other boy announces like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Let’s play, big brother!”

And so Tatsumi spends his days entertaining the boy—the youngest prince, so it seems, learning swordsmanship from Budou, or etiquette lessons with his private tutor, Run. Both men are pleased with his fast progress, praising him as a prodigy, and as the years roll on, he is indistinguishable from any other noble child around. He even earns name for himself, as Budou’s star pupil. Truth is that he is bored and doesn’t even feel like he is alive, so he takes on challenges as a temporary distraction.

The little prince, later Emperor, is also amazingly easy to spoil. With a few friendly advices from Run, Tatsumi has the boy under his thumb. Not that he really cares about that, but it makes life easier, so he doesn’t complain either. When the fat Minister realizes this and tries to separate him from the little Emperor, the Palace is wrecked by temper tantrums. He doesn’t care if he live or die but the constant tantrum is beginning to grate on his nerves too. The matter is settled when he manages to escape death by earning a powerful Imperial Arm in the shape of a sword. The previously-dormant Imperial Arm comes alive under his touch, and since then, mist and shadows is his reliable, constant companion.

Tatsumi is slightly unclear of the details on how he becomes a General. He is sure that Budou or the little Emperor is involved, and him acquiring Susanoo’s loyalty may or may not be another deciding factor. A person having two Imperial Arms is unheard of, but he doesn’t care much about details. He isn’t that special anyway. Yes, he is a prodigy, and yes, he is strong enough to fight Esdeath to a tie, and _yes_ , he is childhood friend of the Emperor, but he is also Tatsumi, a boy barely thirteen of age. Surely adults aren’t dumb or desperate enough to appoint him as a General.

But apparently they really _are_ desperate, because Tatsumi is made General, and a part of the Army is shoved under his nose. He is just thankful he’s allowed to keep Run to… well, _run_ things. Another silver lining is that Susanoo is like a walking encyclopedia of convenient skills. Both Tatsumi and Run have never been this well-cared. Leaving those two to care for general management of his Army, he often divulges on his hobby of people-watching, which Run always warns him about.

“I know it is interesting, but be careful to keep it in line and don’t forget to do your job properly.”

All in all, Tatsumi lives a comfortable life, and he is quite content to keep it that way.

 

☾

 

The people are cheering, again, when his Army comes into view. Tatsumi barely manages to cover a yawn. He’s tired after the long journey, and those cheers aren’t infectious to him. He just wants to go to the Palace already, giving the Emperor his reports and then going to sleep for a week. A month. Either is fine. He starts to lean closer to Susanoo, but Run pushes his back forward again. He gives his tutor an annoyed scowl, receiving a bright smile in return.

“A General must appear sharp at all times, Tatsumi-sama,” Run says, and it should be illegal to have a smile like that.

Fighting the urge to swear loudly and creatively, Tatsumi complains, “But I’m already dead in my feet. My horse. Whatever.”

Run laughs, and Tatsumi wants to strangle the blond. “Now, now, General. Don’t sulk.”

Tatsumi stops paying attention to Run and surveys the crowds instead. At least half of the Capital is out on the streets watching and cheering for him. He can recognize faces from poorer districts, ones he’d enquired, found interesting, and given rewards. Really, do those people have nothing better to do?

One face catches his attention, and he is swept by a strange sense of déjà vu. It’s a young man of his own age, with brown eyes and black hair swept back with a gray bandana. He faintly recognizes that man, but can’t remember from when or where. It is quite unusual for him, and it’s enough reason to observe the man closely. The other stares back at him, wide-eyed and entranced. He holds the gaze for a few seconds before breaking his attention away. It must be nothing big, and he cares not for things he doesn’t remember.

When he goes to sleep that night, he dreams of snowfall over an unknown village.

 

☾

 

The next time Tatsumi sneaks out into the lower district, he learns that the bandana guy’s name is Ieyasu, and that they were childhood friend who came from the same village, the same root. He lets Ieyasu gushing about the village, about Sayo, about everything and anything that comes to mind. It is fascinating, hearing Ieyasu talk, but Tatsumi has long since forgotten about it all. He can’t offer any recompense for Ieyasu and the village aside from gold, but Ieyasu is actually offended when he suggests it.

“Come with me to the Night Raid, Tatsumi,” Ieyasu begs, desperate. _Don’t be a stranger_ , his eyes say. _Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow._

And Tatsumi gives his answer.

“…I don’t want to.”

Ieyasu’s face crumples. The next Tatsumi sees him is across the table in the Jaegers’ meeting room.

 

 

**cacophony**

Meeting Tatsumi doesn’t clear his head, not at all. In fact it is even more confusing. Tatsumi is no longer unattainable ghost of a gentle boy with innocent smiles Ieyasu has been chasing for a decade and more. Tatsumi is a General, now. Just not-so-faceless enemy to be rid of, for the sake of a better future. Sheele’s death only cements his own resolve to bring a revolution into the Empire.

(Ieyasu doesn’t listen to the traitorous little voice that whispers, if somehow, just a big if, he can still save Tatsumi one day, when the Empire finally falls, if he can give Tatsumi another home to return to, when the Imperial Palace is no longer an available comfort.)

So Ieyasu channels his anger and frustration to his assassination targets. Just work after work after work, one assignment to another, until his breaking point comes in the shape of Bulat’s death. Only then he allows himself to weep openly, properly, for each and every bump and rap this life has given him.

Incursio is a heavy weight on his back, but Ieyasu carries it all the same.

 

☽

 

Ieyasu has to hold his squirm in check under Tatsumi’s empty gaze. There’s the fresh scent of mist and snowstorm clinging to Tatsumi’s skin; strange how Tatsumi has managed to bring the smell of a long forgotten homeland until now. But it is comforting to have something so familiar so close, even in enemy territory. It’s bad enough that Esdeath is hanging just outside the room with the rest of the Jaegers. Only Susanoo is left in the room, unwilling to part from Tatsumi’s side.

“You wouldn’t reconsider?” Ieyasu asks Tatsumi. “Revolutionary Army will benefit from connections and funds you have. They’ll welcome one more General with open arms.”

“They do interest me a little, but I don’t think I’d want to leave this place,” Tatsumi says, petting the sleek gray cat lounging on his lap.

Ieyasu stares. Tatsumi having a pet cat he actually cares for never stopped being so bizarre.

“…Ieyasu.”

“Ah! Yes!?” he jolts out of his musings.

Tatsumi seems unusually hesitant. “Are you… content, being with them?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. “It’s surprisingly a comfortable place to be.”

This time, Tatsumi’s gaze is entirely unreadable. “…I see.”

In the end, Ieyasu is released with minimal fuss, even with his proper reward money for winning the competition. When he looks back from the outside, he can see a pale hand raised in a farewell.

 

 

**noise**

Tatsumi often sleeps poorly nowadays.

Before Ieyasu, his life is simple repetition of daily duties, training with Run and Susanoo, entertaining the Emperor, taking walks around the Capital, rewind and replay. Nothing worthy of note, nothing out of ordinary. Now Tatsumi dreams of a little village covered in snow, of stern scolding and gentle smiles. He supposes it is his long-forgotten past, finally catching up to him, and he doesn’t like how it throws him out of his comfort zone. He doesn’t like how it reminds him of his humanity, of the uncharted territory of his own _feelings_. To feel is a weakness he has trained himself out of; feelings are often too unpredictable to be good.

“Tatsumi-sama,” Run has become increasingly harried-looking lately. “…Are you feeling all right?”

“Tatsumi-sama didn’t get much sleep lately,” Susanoo says, then wilting under Tatsumi’s glare.

“Susanoo, stop talking,” he scolds. “I’m still fine, I can function with less sleep.”

“Well, we know that _that’s_ a lie,” Run says, hand moving to Tatsumi’s forehead. Tatsumi is feeling babied, but he knows it’s no use to stop Run’s mothering. “You have a fever, Tatsumi-sama,” Run concludes with a frown. “I will notify the men that you are not to be disturbed today. Please get some rest. Susanoo, I’ll be relying on you.”

“Of course, Run-san,” Susanoo inclines, then sweeps Tatsumi off his feet toward private bedroom. “I will look after him today.” Tatsumi protests feebly when a thick blanket is pulled over his trembling body, Susanoo looks down at him, adding, “No more of those, Tatsumi-sama. You didn’t usually work until you collapse. We’ll go over the details when you’re conscious once more.”

It’s not fair that Susanoo has magic unknown even to humans, but this time, Tatsumi doesn’t resist when cold fingers draw a slumber spell on his forehead. The sleep that lures him into the blackness is deep and consuming.

 

☾

 

“This place is quite beautiful,” Tatsumi says vaguely, causing Ieyasu to stare at him with a betrayed look.

“This is so not the time to be kidding, Tatsumi,” Ieyasu responds, slightly hysterical. “Look at us now. Where in the world are we…?”

“Looks like some remote island in far north of the Capital,” he tells Ieyasu, calmly and patiently. “I’m not seeing anything but sea around us.”

Ieyasu makes some sort of strangled noise. Tatsumi pats the assassin’s shoulder consolingly.

“Don’t fret, Ieyasu. Just think of this as a vacation.”

Tatsumi can appreciate the island’s beauty and its variety of fresh tropical fruits, but after a full day of running around its small length, he does get tired eventually. Ieyasu has also settled somewhere nearby, close enough to the fire but still keeping a reasonable distance between them.

“You look tired.”

Tatsumi startles, doesn’t expecting Ieyasu to strike a conversation first. “…I do?” he eventually says.

Ieyasu nods. “Yeah, you definitely are.”

He doesn’t know what possesses him to say: “Lately I often had a dream, about a small village in the mountains. It snows heavily there, and at night everything is so quiet, every little noise swallowed by the snowfall.”

“…It’s our village, Tatsumi. It’s our hometown.” Ieyasu’s face is a strange mix of sadness, bitterness, anger, and melancholy. “You do remember it, however faintly.”

“…Oh,” he says simply. They don’t speak after that.

In the end, another portal opens a passage back to the mountaintop they previously met at. Ieyasu gives him a long look, again begging him to join the revolution. But Tatsumi stands by his choice.

“I don’t want to, Ieyasu. I like where I am now.”

They part ways once more, but Tatsumi somehow has the feeling that the next he sees Ieyasu, it will not be in a good term.

 

 

**crack and burn**

Tatsumi is staring at him from the other side of his prison, and Ieyasu still can’t discern the thoughts hiding behind those emotionless green eyes. Tomorrow he’ll die, most likely by Tatsumi’s own hands. He doesn’t quite know what to think of that.

“I can absolve whatever sins you have committed against the Empire,” Tatsumi tells him, palm up in offering. “…If you’d be so kind to take my hand.”

Ieyasu slaps that hand away, for the first time turning his back from Tatsumi.

“I’d rather die than betray the Night Raid.”

(Ieyasu doesn’t know that if he looks more closely, he’ll find hurt that is marring Tatsumi’s confused face.)

 

 

**wear and tear**

Tatsumi feels strangely hurt by Ieyasu’s blatant rejection. He hadn’t even meant to ask Ieyasu to betray his comrades’ location or plans, only offering one way out to the person who has a same root as himself, no matter how distant those memories are. Rejection hurts each time, but this nearly makes to the top three of his admittedly short list.

But it no longer matters. Ieyasu will die tomorrow, one way or another, and he’d like to do the deed himself. That is the least he can offer.

 

☾

 

Of course, the Night Raid has to interfere.

Esdeath is having quality time with Najenda while Budou is facing the sniper and the half-beast. Then Akame crashes the party and freed Ieyasu. Incursio comes into play, and everything soon descends into chaos. But in the end, Tatsumi is standing over Budou’s mangled corpse while the sniper girl who’d done it is quite certainly dead. He doesn’t even remember doing so, but it is clear that the girl is felled by his own blade.

“How do you feel, seeing your master dead?” Ieyasu sounds more curious than anything.

He turns to face Ieyasu, blade dripping with red he then flicks away. It hits the ground with a splat. “I do feel some sadness, yes. Contrary to what you guys think, perhaps. But what would be left of me, if I allowed myself to experience a thing like feelings?”

Yes, he’s known from the start that he would never be able to completely banish his own feelings, his own heart. He merely doesn’t acknowledge it, to protect his own weak self. He’s understood that now.

“Tatsumi—” Ieyasu tries again, but Tatsumi cuts him off, feeling more tired than ever.

“Just go, Ieyasu. Take the girl if you want to. I’ve no need for her body.”

Ieyasu carefully gathers the sniper’s body to his arms, but Tatsumi doesn’t watch him. He turns his back from the place instead, collapsing into Susanoo’s waiting arms, doesn’t wake until the next day when Wave comes barreling to announce Kurome’s disappearance.

 

 

**we’re inconsolable**

Ieyasu doesn’t know what to think when Akame clings to him, bawling her eyes out. Tatsumi’s tired face floats to mind instead, and he briefly wonders if Tatsumi will be saddened by Kurome’s death. Now that he knows Tatsumi is still capable of feeling, he laments on everything that has happened all over again. Tatsumi is broken, so broken. But so do the rest of them. They are battered, steadfast tin soldiers dancing amidst the madness.

 

☽

 

The day everything crashes down is a beautiful day like any other day. There isn’t even any cloud on sight, but Ieyasu’s heart nearly stops when the giant Imperial Arm slowly standing, towering over the Capital like the shadow of a death god. He can make out Tatsumi’s pale-haired aide helping civilian evacuation while the dark-haired one is trying to whittle down the giant hulk of Imperial Arm with the Jaegers member who’d come to get Kurome’s body.

“Your Excellency.” A firm voice over the sound of destruction, like a roar but somehow soft. “Please stop this madness all at once.”

Ieyasu can feel his eyes widening.

 

 

**verse, chorus, verse**

It’s strange that Tatsumi only finds what he actually wants in the eleventh hour. It’s strange that only now he understands what he wants to protect. What he’s actually been looking for.

Tatsumi wants to go home with Ieyasu to their village.

“Why are you asking me to stop, Tatsumi!?” the Emperor’s voice is like a scared child.

In a way, it’s what he is, Tatsumi thinks. A simple child, with sin of ignorance worthy of death. It just happens that Tatsumi can still sway this child toward something better.

“Please, look down on your feet, Your Excellency. What are you doing, massacring your own people, your own Empire? Are you that blind?”

“But they are opposing me, they are at fault!” comes the petulant answer.

“They did no such thing,” he continues calmly. “What they consider important is different from ours, from yours, and they are merely going forward with their own wish. Please, understand their plight. Listen to your people. Even though you are the Emperor, you are but a child. You and I both. We’re fallible and human, we still make mistakes.”

The Emperor is starting to sound doubtful. “But the Minister…”

“The Minister is also human. He isn’t always right either.”

A few loud bangs.

His vision suddenly blurring, Tatsumi can feel the gravity pulling him down, down. He hears Susanoo and Run shouting his name, hears the horrified screams from the people he seeks to protect. It is Susanoo’s arms that breaks his fall, and Run’s hands that is tearing through his clothes urgently. He lets them, suddenly too tired to be doing anything.

“Try to stay awake, Tatsumi-sama,” Run says, for the first time sounding scared. “You will be just fine. I will not let you die.”

That catches his attention. “…I’m going to die?”

“Minister shot you,” Susanoo says, tone clipped as he tears his own sleeve for a makeshift bandage. “He’s spewing shit about you being influenced by traitors and couldn’t be trusted anymore.”

True, he can see blood gushing down from the wounds on his torso and stomach, he can taste blood in his mouth, he is feeling sleepier than ever. But now isn’t the time, not when the shadows and mist are shouting at him to get up and stop the scared child that is his little brother in all but blood.

“…Susanoo,” he calls, grabbing a torn sleeve of Susanoo’s clothing. “Go stop the Emperor. I’m giving you permission to use your ability.”

“Tatsumi-sama…!” Run blanches.

“This is an order. Go, Susanoo!”

Susanoo doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

 

**the minutes don’t stop**

When Tatsumi falls, Ieyasu screams and propels himself forward to the massive hulk, keeps hitting until his knuckles feel raw and bleeding. When he pulls back, a mace launches itself to a spot slightly above where he’s been hitting.

“Step behind and watch,” says Tatsumi’s dark-haired aide, except now his hair is white and glowing. “No matter how tough it looks, this thing still has a weak spot.”

Suddenly Ieyasu remembers Tatsumi saying the same, when they were trapped in that remote island and being attacked by a Danger Beast. “Tatsumi also said that,” he says, and is rewarded by a smile.

“Hmm, he’s learning. Good for him.”

He smiles back, bemused. “What’s your name?”

“I’m called Susanoo,” is the clipped reply.

Ieyasu can feel a grin forming. “Let’s get that annoying little Emperor down from his pedestal.”

 

☽

 

It takes Susanoo’s sacrifice, but the hulking Imperial Arm finally goes down with satisfying cracks and groans. Straight down into the town and its people.

Try as he might, Ieyasu can’t hold the weight down on his own. Wave, the Grand Chariot wielder, has already been out of commission sometime earlier. So he has no choice but to push himself out of his limits. He can feel his bones creaking, his armors slick with blood. But those people have no defenses, no shield other than Ieyasu himself. So he will protect them, or die trying.

“…A little more to left, Ieyasu.”

Ieyasu tastes mists and shadows in the air, and knows that Tatsumi is behind him, summoning those mists and shadows to act as a shield. He turns slightly, throws a grin to his friend. Tatsumi is looking worse to wear, and there is blood on his clothes, but alive and _smiling_. People are cheering, hugging their families, crying thankful words. Ieyasu falls to his knees, Incursio’s armors fading.

The last thing Ieyasu sees before everything fades is Tatsumi, actually smiling and surrounded by the people who adore him. It’s almost like that first reunion back in the beginning of everything, and Ieyasu sinks into black with a smile of his own.

 

 

**the bottom of the pool**

“…Ieyasu is dead?” Tatsumi asks, feeling the still-foreign sadness welling in his chest. Akame looks at him dead in the eye, and nods. He almost sinks toward the ground again, but Run is quick to support him. He has no tears, not yet, since he still has one more job to do. The little Emperor is crawling out from underneath the wreckages, the elaborate crown hat missing. So Tatsumi goes, Run supporting him all the way. He kneels near the fallen Emperor, balls his hand into fist, then brings said fist down onto the top of the Emperor’s head.

“…When my little brother does bad things, it’s my job as the big brother to punish him,” he tells the little Emperor, and is proud of the small sniffle of apology he receives in return.

Run shouts as Tatsumi sways dangerously, and falls limp on the ground. He can also hear Najenda’s voice is somewhere nearby, shouting for a stretcher. He looks up, traces a trail of smoke up into the skies above, thinking that this is actually a nice day to die.

Then Tatsumi, too, sinks into black.

 

 

**Epilogue;**

**the taste of grave in the mouth**

A secluded mansion on the south edge of the Capital. Floor three, West Wing. Left from the front hall, down the corridor, left again. The master bedroom.

He’s been staying in the mansion for two months. Two months of painful, nostalgic torture. Every day, Run finds himself standing at the foot of a four-poster bed, staring at the sleeping, near-lifeless face of his superior and beloved student, and regrets will consume him like fires from the Capital.

The doors snap shut behind him, and he slides his uniform jacket from his shoulders to hang neatly on the coat rack. A crystal vase on nightstand by the bed, upon which he gingerly places the single sprig of white heather he’s been carrying. He plops his weary body into an armchair, arms resting on his knees, Run manages a smile.

“Good afternoon, Tatsumi-sama.”

 

_“I think I cannot escape death like Tatsumi has.”_

_Run could care less. Tatsumi hasn’t woken, not even once, lying so still in this makeshift medical tent. And the cause is currently standing not ten feet away, the Emperor Tatsumi has dubbed as his little brother. Granted, the little Emperor looks properly saddened and guilty, but Run is already too spent to even properly throttle the boy._

_“Can you pass something to him when he wakes up?”_

_He nods; it isn’t hard to grant this child one last selfishness. The fallen Emperor smiles softly._

_“Please tell him to live on.”_

 

It takes a week for the nightmares to subside.

It replays itself over and over, Run, wings splattered with his general’s blood. Tatsumi sways and falls into the ground again and again, no matter how desperately he wishes it otherwise, and he will watch the light leave his general’s eyes. The doctors have told him that it is a miracle Tatsumi lives. At least three vital organs pierced with bullets, and yet, there he is.

Run takes a moment to brush aside a lock of brown that had fallen onto the general’s youthful face. Tatsumi would appear to merely be sleeping, had gaunt circles not claimed the area around his eyes, or the muscle of his limbs been taken by atrophy.

Tatsumi’s gray cat, Aram, is lounging by the windowsill, near the leftover bouquets and boxes of gifts. How the cat has managed to survive Palace destruction shall remain a mystery, but Run smiles to himself, smiles at the thought of the once dispassionate general, who has never had any true friends, now is beloved by all.

To a degree, Tatsumi does deserve it. Becoming savior of the people after his success on stopping a rampant Emperor has perks. There were entirely too many floods of visitors before he’s transported to his current location, after the unconsciousness has taken him. At least Najenda has ensured the mansion as safe and isolated as possible. Only Wave, sometimes Akame, if she’s feeling safe enough, ever comes to visit.

 

_“Tatsumi will be offered his position back once he wakes,” Najenda tells him. “His actions had him well-known as the only general who stays uncorrupted to the end. People adore him.”_

_“And the official story about Ieyasu is that he was part of the Jaegers?” he asks._

_Najenda nods. “Yes, and I was able to get a medal for Ieyasu because of that.”_

_He smiles, “I’m sure the people in his village will appreciate it.”_

 

Tatsumi stirs awake on the first true falling of winters, almost three months to the day of his collapse. Run is entertaining Wave in the parlor when a maid he recognizes as the one in charge of Tatsumi’s room bursts in, bringing with her the news that Tatsumi is awake.

Run _runs_.

The scene he arrives to is worth all the months spent waiting.

“Oh, Run,” Tatsumi says, voice rough with disuse. “Good morning. Where am I, by the way?”

The next thing he knows, Run has his arms around Tatsumi’s shoulders—so thin, thinner than he’d ever remember it being—clutching his general for dear life, all the tears he’s been holding back now spilling and drenching his cheeks, and Tatsumi patting awkwardly at his back.

“There, there. Now can you tell me what happened while I was asleep?”

Run chuckles through his tears. “…You have no idea, Tatsumi-sama.”

 

 

**not really soothing but soothing nonetheless**

Tatsumi is staring at the expanse of white-covered landscape with something close to wonder and nostalgia marring his face. Beside him, Run is smiling his usual serene smile, though also keeping a close watch to the General, ready to be called at moment’s notice. Wave sneezes. The country is frigging _cold_ , and he wonders why people would want to live here at all. Said people are currently whispering to each other and gawking at them, though they are no longer on horseback and have no one else but the three of them. He supposes that has something to do with Tatsumi’s full regalia.

“Hey, isn’t that…”

“…Tatsumi, right? That boy who went missing years ago!”

An old man with a wealth of graying beard steps out from the crowds, and Wave figures that this is the village chief. Run makes to intercept, but Tatsumi steps out before he could. A small talk, and then the chief gestures for them to follow. They are led to the chief’s own house, and after a short wait another man joins them, worried face turning to amazement in the sight of Tatsumi.

“Ieyasu’s father, correct?” Tatsumi asks. “Forgive me; memories of my childhood are quite vague.”

“I—yes, I’m Ieyasu’s father,” the man stutters, looking unnerved by Tatsumi’s clearly inquisitive stare. “You’re… Tatsumi? It’s good to see you home after so long. We thought we’d lost you, for sure.”

Run gives Tatsumi a discreet kick under the table, causing the young general to smile vaguely. Wave bites his lips so not to laugh.

“I suppose I _am_ home,” Tatsumi says, “…though I hardly remember this place at all.”

Seeing both the chief and Ieyasu’s father blanching, Run hurriedly explains, “Well, it’s to be expected, Tatsumi-sama, with how the slave traders treated you. You were lucky to be alive.”

Tatsumi hums. “But it isn’t why I am here.” Fishing out Ieyasu’s medal from his coat pocket, Tatsumi opens the lid and slides the box toward Ieyasu’s father. “This is given for Ieyasu’s bravery, protecting the citizens of the Capital. I want you to accept it in his stead.”

The man is instantly on tears. When he speaks, his voice is trembling like the rest of his body. “He’s… he’s dead, aye?”

For all his lack of tact, Tatsumi is a good liar when the situation needs him to be. “He was an Imperial Arms user under my direct command. He was a good subordinate, a good friend outside the field.”

Wave watches the man crumbles, vowing to himself never to let his own parents to feel the grief of losing him. No parent should bury their children first.

 

_“I think I want to go to my hometown.”_

_Wave chokes on his tea. Run pauses from writing._

_“What brings this on?” Run asks as Wave is busy coughing._

_Tatsumi has given to smiles and laughter lately, and this time the smile is whimsical. “I don’t know, I just feel like it. Maybe it will give me a closure, to see my long forgotten hometown.”_

_Run nods, resolute. “I’ll ask General Najenda.”_

 

Tatsumi is in the middle of a snowball fight. His group is clearly winning, evident by the laughter and the cries of dismay. Tatsumi is also laughing, looking like an innocent boy himself, perfectly at home surrounded by the village children.

“I can’t believe he is a general, now,” the chief says, smiling fondly. “The little Tatsumi I remembered has grown to be a great young lad.”

Good thing that the chief is clearly supporting Tatsumi. Quite a few of the villagers had been whispering, laying the blame to Tatsumi for Ieyasu’s death, accusing voices that say Ieyasu was seen as an expendable tool compared to Tatsumi, the beloved general.

Wave watches Run watching Tatsumi; the ex-tutor has a somewhat regretful smile on his face, so Wave knocks him lightly. “He’s smiling now. Stop looking like he might drop dead at any second.”

Run’s chuckle is unexpectedly bitter, and his reply is more unexpected. “He might. Drop dead at any second. His health isn’t that good.”

The chief looks at Run, alarmed. “What do you mean?”

“Four bullets to his torso and stomach and yet he was still stubbornly using his own Imperial Arms to protect the citizens.” Run’s smile is rueful. “He owned two, you see. It had its toll.”

The chief is uncomprehending, but Wave understands. “You mean Susanoo.”

Run nods. “Tatsumi-sama might not live past his twenties.”

Wave can feel his eyes widening. “…I knew he was shot by that pig Minister,” he says. “But I hadn’t realized that it is that serious.”

The chief blanches, “Then Ieyasu’s death…”

“It’s not that he didn’t help Ieyasu, it’s more like he couldn’t,” Run says harshly. “He was also heavily injured. Using Susanoo’s trump at that situation was a dangerous decision, not to mention that he’d conjured a shield of shadows soon afterward. It actually wasn’t that big of a stretch that he’d fallen unconscious for three months.”

The chief’s eyes actually shine with unshed tears. “…I see. I had wondered why it took him this long to come here. So he was still recovering himself.”

Run smiles ruefully. “Tatsumi-sama has been through a lot, but he never gives up. I know it firsthand, being his tutor before I became his aide. I’ve seen it. He is but a child, yet he always gives his all. He will also give his all for the new government. And I plan to stay by his side.”

Wave gives Run a commiserating look. “Tatsumi-sama has always been a handful. He’ll need all the support we can give.”

Run smiles, and Wave thinks, he may have lost Kurome, but he still has Run and Tatsumi and his own life to live for. Life is never idyllic as a fairytale, but perhaps they can make it a pocketful of rainbows instead, various colors in harmony to each other, side-by-side. Because they are alive in this world, and it is all that matters in the end.


End file.
